


Air Conditioning

by misato



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Anal Sex, Emotions, Hook-Up, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23975842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misato/pseuds/misato
Summary: “Lights off again? You’re thinking about her this time, huh?” Ryan said.
Relationships: Jim Halpert/Ryan Howard
Comments: 9
Kudos: 71





	Air Conditioning

Air Conditioning

“I know the AC is busted, but please, everybody remain calm!” Michael announced, struggling to remain standing on top of the rolling chair he had placed in front of Pam’s desk.  
She glanced at Jim, her eyes shining with a familiar combination of amusement and terror. They had both grown very good at counting down the fleeting moments before disaster struck. This time, Jim met her gaze and mouthed a perfect “five-four-three-two-one” before Michael toppled over the reception desk, spilling the bowl of red white and blue M&M’s and sending the chair flying into the barren coat rack.  
Jim barely registered the pandemonium that followed -- not Dwight’s needless attempts at first aid, not Angela’s judgemental words of discouragement, not Kelly’s fake crying -- all he could see was Pam glowing with laughter.  
“You guessed the timing perfectly!” she said later over a shared bag of stale Fritos and two lukewarm diet sodas from the vending machine. “Perfectly, Jim.”  
Jim could only see her perfect smile, her perfect blush, her perfect hair, all shimmering in the harsh fluorescents.   
“Yeah,” he grinned. “Gonna use that one to bulk up my resume someday -- predicting the very near future.  
“Knock knock,” Michael said, rapping on the doorframe. “Meeting in the conference room in five minutes.”  
Jim crumpled the empty chip bag into his fist until it stung from being clenched.  
“Awesome,” he said. “Can’t wait.”  
***  
“Lights off again? You’re thinking about her this time, huh?” Ryan said, shoving a pillow under his stomach and spreading his legs for Jim to slide between.  
Jim sighed and let his hands run over Ryan’s ass, dipping between the curves and thumbing his hole. He listened for the way the other man’s breath shuddered out. Jim liked that sound; that soft fluttering gasp of released tension.   
They had loud sex too -- Ryan could moan like a pornstar, but Jim relished in the quiet moments; the sigh of the mattress beneath their bodies, the buzz of summer humming through the open window, the rush of the air conditioning turning on and off, the wet sound of his cock slipping in and out of Ryan’s ass.   
“I’m not thinking about her,” he said, voice throaty.   
“Mm,” Ryan said, tilting his head back toward Jim, his body a warm, sensual shadow morphing in the dark. "You sure about that?"  
“Jesus, Ryan. I’m sure. I mean, sometimes I do. I can’t help it. What, do you mind?”   
“Not even a little bit,” Ryan said flatly. “The gay dating scene in Scranton is a nightmare. Trust me, I’m fine with being your off-brand Pam.”  
"Okay.”  
“Where do you keep your lube again, Halpert?” Ryan sighed.  
“Nightstand, middle drawer.”  
Ryan stretched to the corner of the bed and started digging through Jim’s socks. His legs were spread shamelessly and Jim’s face burned hot from looking. Silently, he scanned the room for Ryan’s wallet -- it sat peeking out of the pocket of his khakis and spilling open-faced onto the carpet. Carefully Jim plucked out a condom. Glow-in-the-dark. He snorted.   
“Get over here,” Ryan said.  
Jim laughed and flung himself on top of him, grinding playfully against his hip and kissing him until he ran out of breath.   
“What, did you need something?” he said.   
“Shut up,” Ryan said, and handed him the lube.  
“C’mon babe, what do you want?”  
He poured out some lube and slid one careful finger inside him, twisting, then two, splitting Ryan open and listening for his breath to quicken.  
“Fuck me,” Ryan said soon in an aching voice, pushing back needily against Jim’s hand.  
Jim nodded. Soon everything was warm, too warm in a good way; their bodies, the lube, the sweat dripping from Jim’s hair as he thrusted in, the heat of Ryan’s hole clenching around his dick.  
“Please, babe,” Ryan begged.  
Jim smacked his ass hard, and Ryan whimpered. He only did the spanking thing because Ryan asked him to, but Jim was starting to like the sting that warmed his hand afterward. Like a good high-five. He didn’t say that out loud, but he thought that Pam would have laughed at a joke like that.  
Soon after that thought, Jim came, filling the condom with a soft groan. Then he stayed still, petting a hand through Ryan’s hair and listening to him shiver and rut against Jim’s sheets until he finished too.  
***  
Ryan showered, and then went out onto the porch to smoke a cigarette.  
In one of Jim’s ratty t-shirts and a pair of baggy gym shorts, he looked small and lonely. Jim followed him out. Ryan tousled hair dripped onto the porch whenever he tapped his cigarette. Jim watched the water and the ash tumble and disappear.   
“Wanna sleep over?”  
As soon as the words came out of Jim’s mouth, he regretted them. Sleep over. Like they were twelve year old kids with a brand new video game, not adults who had places to be in the morning and near-expired eggs to cook at home for breakfast.  
Ryan exhaled, blowing the smoke away from Jim’s face.   
“Nope. I’m okay. Gotta drive separate to work, or Michael will stare.”  
“He stares at everyone. Sometimes I think he has to believe he’s a part of all our lives or he’ll get depressed. It’s better to play along. Fun, even.”  
“It’s sorta creepy though.”  
“I know.”  
“He’s gross.”  
“Yeah,” Jim agreed. “He is.”  
Ryan took one more pathetic drag and put out the dwindling cigarette with his tongue.  
“Ouch,” Jim said.  
“I’m still barefoot. I didn’t feel like stomping it.” Ryan explained. “The tongue thing doesn’t hurt if you do it right. This guy from business school taught me.   
“Gotcha,” Jim said, contorting his mouth into an uncomfortable smile.  
“I’m gonna head out now.”  
“Get your shoes first. Driving barefoot is illegal.”  
“I know,” Ryan laughed, looking at him sideways and grinning.  
The face that Jim saw was the same face that he often caught in the glassy reflection of the office windows when he was staring at Pam. Jim’s breath twisted in his lungs. He watched Ryan race inside to put on his socks and shoes. When he came out of the house, he gave Jim a big hug that smelled like smoke and then wobbled to his car in office loafers and shorts.  
“Drive safe,” Jim said.  
Ryan waved and Jim watched his car zip off into the night. Soon the taillights were two shallow, blinking dots, and then they were nothing.  
***  
The office was sweltering. Most of the guys’ ties were loose around their neck. Meredith was near-topless. Angela’s buttons were still done to her throat. Pam shifted uncomfortably in her desk chair. The candy bowl was practically soup.  
“Got a spoon for me?” Jim said, gesturing at the dish with a smile as he approached the front desk.  
His bangs were pushed out of his face for once, but stray hairs stuck to his forehead.  
“No,” Pam whispered, turning from the phone with a little smile, like she was trying not to laugh out loud because the joke was too stupid to deserve it.  
“Yes,” she said into the phone. “I know this is a pizza place. I’m sorry. Four bags of ice for Michael Scott. We’ll tip, I promise. I understand. Wait, please don’t--”  
She sighed.  
Jim laughed.   
“What was that?”  
“Michael’s had me calling pizza places all morning asking them to deliver some ice. Turns out three of the local places already have his name blacklisted.”  
“Not surprising.”  
Michael came out of his office in brightly colored beach shorts and a limp tank top.  
“What’s the update on the ice, Pamsicle?”  
“No one wants to deliver us any,” Pam said, looking more apologetic than she felt. “It’s not on the menu, Michael. And one of the places said that last time you tried to pay in chocolate coins?”  
“It was St. Patrick’s Day, Pam.”  
“That’s not--”  
“I can go out and pick up some ice,” Jim offered.  
“I’ll go!” Dwight interjected.  
“No, no, I think they need you here, Dwight,” Jim said.  
“I’ll come with,” Ryan said, taking a stack of papers from the printer. “Let’s get a bite to eat while we’re out, Jim, what d'ya say?”  
“Hooters? Are you guys thinking Hooters?” Michael said.   
“I literally have never thought, “Where should we go for lunch?” and come to the conclusion that we should go to Hooters,” Jim said. “It’s just ice. Ryan and I will be back soon.”  
“We’ll see,” Ryan said.  
“See ya,” Pam said, waving goodbye.  
“Bye,” Jim said, dipping a finger into the melty candy bowl and licking it clean as they headed out the door.  
***  
The ice sat dripping in the trunk of Jim’s car as he and Ryan kissed furiously in the backseat, half-undressed and sweating..  
“The…” Ryan moaned softly as Jim tore greedily over his neck, biting and sucking at the skin below his collar. “The ice, babe.”  
“Shit,” Jim said.   
He was hard in his underwear; his belt was undone, his trousers were unzipped, and his cock swelled through the opening.  
“Let me,” Ryan whispered, delving a hand into Jim’s boxers and sliding to the floor of the car.  
And oh, his mouth was so hot and wet, and Jim was getting closer by the second.  
“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum in your mouth,” he gasped, and Ryan moaned and swallowed him deeper.  
Jim felt his cock pulse in Ryan’s throat as he finished all too quickly. They got dressed quietly. Ryan wiped his mouth and leaned in to tie Jim’s tie for him.   
“You don’t have to--I mean, we’re not...”  
“I know,” Ryan said softly, and kissed the corner of Jim’s jaw.   
“It’s just--”  
“I know,” Ryan said again, mostly to himself that time.  
The ice was half melted by the time they got back.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know if u enjoyed! thanks for reading, hopefully i'll summon the motivation to write ch 2 this week


End file.
